


That time I wanted to kiss yer moles

by Ungesabi



Series: Make me feel at ease [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu is a dork, Atsumu swears a lot, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Osamu is the smartest, Osasuna (mentioned), Pining, Secret Relationship, angst at the end, eventually it is mutual, just a little bit, mention of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25154869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ungesabi/pseuds/Ungesabi
Summary: At first it was just a game, Atsumu enjoyed bothering his teammate, teasing him around about everything, eventually mocking Omi about his cleaning fixation.An attempt to reveal the truth behind Sakusa Kiyoomi's cleaning needs-Or how Atsumu is a softie under his swears.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Make me feel at ease [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940452
Kudos: 218





	That time I wanted to kiss yer moles

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my contribution to the Sakuatsu fandom. I tried to imagine why Sakusa is so keen on cleaning.  
> Just wanted to state that English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there are any grammar errors (I'm certain there are) also, I tried to include the Miya's kansai dialect bc I love it soo much.  
> Anyway enjoy! Let me know if you liked it!

Atsumu was staring at the door.

It took him ten minutes to drag his ass from the living room to the entrance, his hand trembling upon the handle.

_I don’t want to open the goddamn door_ – he thought.

He knew who was behind it and that he wouldn’t give up until Atsumu had opened.

_For fuck sake, let’s finish this shit quickly_.

He threw open the doorway and looked straight in the eyes of the _intruder._

“Omi-kun watcha’ brought you here t’night?” He mocked.

“Stop this shit Atsumu and let me in.”

The setter decided to focus on the bundle of raven curls of the latter to avoid looking him in the eyes, knowing that if he did, he would have lost.

Kiyomi drove himself through the house so naturally that it was almost painful, a friendly reminder for both of them that they couldn’t ignore what had happened between them.

At first it was just a game, Atsumu enjoyed bothering his teammate, teasing him around about everything, eventually mocking Omi about his cleaning fixation. It still was ok when they got laid after a tough match.

_“We’re just celebrating.”_ Atsumu repeated himself while an unusual Kiyomi was pounding his ass sooo sweetly hard.

_“It’s ok, he’s a clean freak.”_ he thought when the other one didn’t let him cling onto him.

Months passed, another season began, they continued to be on the same team and eventually became fuck buddies, insulting each other on the court, then moaning silently in the locker room. It was great, the best Atsumu could ask for, no sentimental complications.

_Fuck what ‘Samu said._

“Yer a dumb fuck if ya not realize yer totally into him.”

“Yer just obfuscated by this asshole next to ya.”

Rintaro, who was playing with both his phone and his brother hair, flipped him his middle finger nonchalantly while murmuring “loser”.

Everything was under control, even when Kiyomi stopped while they were having sex to look at him, seconds later he rested his lips into Atsumu’s, quickly pulling off before the latter could even realize it.

“Do it again.” Atsumu whispered almost desperately.

When their lips encountered again, their chests lightly brushing, the setter clearly felt goosebumps, a comforting warmth in his body suggesting him that maybe his brother was right.

_Fucking ‘Samu._

From then on Atsumu stopped denying to himself that he was feeling something for that piece of shit magic-wrist of teammate, continuously searching a contact with him – and failing most of the times –

He realized he never got the chance to caress Kiyomi’s moles, to kiss them, kiss his eyes. He wanted to clasp his hair, dig his face in Kiyomi’s collarbone and whisper him all that sugary-things that once he listened from ‘Samu while he was speaking on the phone with Suna – and maybe after that incite the hitter to fuck him good –

But his plans never got the chance to realize, Astumu was terrified to touch Omi, he tried, he really did, but it always ended up with the other brusquely stopping him, an annoyed crease between his eyebrows.

_“That’s fine, he will surrender to my charm.”_ he joked around, trying not to pay attention to the increasing pain in his stomach.

It was one day that he completely gave up, too wrecked by his own emotions and too mad with that fuckin’ liar.

They were done with the training and were stretching, Atsumu was beside Shoyo, knowing that Kiyoomi preferred to stretch far from everyone. Well, everyone _but_ Wakatoshi. The Sweiden Adlers’ hitter joined them with Hoshiumi to practice some spikes – Tobio was ill.

Atsumu silently observed them, noting how comfortable Kyiomi appeared while talking with the guy, unbothered by their closeness. Atsumu completely lost it when Wakatoshi grabbed Kiyomi's wrists to help him stretch completely, everyone shocked by that sight.

He left the gym, promising himself to never ever let someone takeover him like that. That same night he was sobbing on his brother – and Suna’s – shoulder, swearing a lot to his former… whatever he was.

“Couldn’t ya just talk ta him?” ‘Samu proposed.

“Fuck no, he can fuck off, that piece of shit probably fucked with the lefty all time along. Now move and lemme find that bartender number.”

Two weeks passed by and – as expected – Kiyoomi didn’t bother to explain himself or catch up with him for a drink or some shit. The hitter realized something was wrong with his teammate when the other one went out partying with the rest of the team after a match instead of ordering dinner with him to watch the highlights and eventually jump on him to fuck.

So Kiyoomi tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with the freak and why he felt so lonely while eating alone in his apartment without Atsumu constantly praising himself and complaining when his hair where not perfect while serving. He tried to understand until he remembered the latter eyes while watching him with Wakatoshi.

So, there he was, begging Atsumu to open the damn door and stop being a fuckhead, when the other greeted him with false surprise, Kiyoomi knew he was right from the start.

“What is your problem?” he bluntly asked, trying not to focus on the dimples right above Atsumu’s lower back that he secretly loved.

“There is not any, ‘m just sick of this situation.”

“And why is that?” Kiyoomi was surprised to see the other one just clench his jaw maintaining his composure.

“The fuck shoulda I know? Yer the one with issues, just don’t want ya to drag me with yer shit.”

Atsumu knew he was being a total asshole, he was sure there was a connection between his reluctance to touch people and his cleaning mania but didn’t know what the fuck it was.

_Maybe I should have asked him._

“You think this kind of behavior works with me? Speak to me because I’m not leaving until you really tell me what’s wrong.”

“How thoughtful of ya Omi, didn’t know ya could actually discuss of something. Don’tcha worry, I’ll continue to toss to ya.”

Kiyoomi watched him silently, asking himself how he could fall for someone so childish, maybe Atsumu was right, the situation wasn’t worth it.

“Is it because of Wakatoshi-kun?” he sighed and Atsumu widened his eyes, he didn’t expect the other one to be so frank.

He felt somehow mortified, conscious that the only one who believed in something else was him.

“Getta out of ma house.”

“What?”

“Out. Now”.

Noticing that the other didn’t move, he went to the doorway.

“Fine, I’ll leave, when I come back, I don’t want to find ya, got it?”

Atsumu started dressing, he hissed when he missed the hole of the jacket’s sleeve for the third time, when he sensed a hand helping him he turned around to face Kiyoomi who was standing behind him, so close that Atsumu could see his eyes' shades.

“Please…go.” Atsumu murmured, exhausted.

Kiyomi didn’t answer, he just rested the back of his palm on the other’s cheek.

“Don’t touch me.”

“’Tsumu”

“Don’t.”

“Why you acting like this?”

“Are you really asking me this? Fine. I think I endured too much for yer sake, I always respected yer stupid standards, I didn’t touch ya even when I craved for it; I changed my clothes when coming to yer place, went through all the “disinfection” procedure so I could stay two feet away from you instead of three; I never came first while we were fucking because ya thought it was disgusting, I-…

Kiyomi interrupted his monologue and took Atsumu’s hands in his, guiding them on his cheeks.

“Kiyoomi what yer do-…”

“Shut up, for once.”

The latter closed his eyes, ignoring the pining fear of having a pair of hands on his face. Memories started to flow in his mind, but he forced himself not to listen to them.

He could feel the warmth of Atsumu’s hands, now animated by a slight shivering. Kiyoomi started to hyperventilate, unable to control himself, Atsumu noticed.

“Sakusa this is too fucked up, it’s not going to work like this…it’s a torture for both of us.” He tried to move away but the tight grip of Kiyomi’s hands on his wrists didn’t let him.

“Gimme time!”

The latter felt Atsumu’s thumbs caress carefully his face.

“Ok, that’s fine with me, I could stay like this all night.”

As time passed, Kiyoomi finally regained control of himself, his eyes still closed.

“I suffer from PTSD, when I was a kid I got badly injured from a rusty iron and almost lost my leg because of the infection. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let that happen again. Wakatoshi was with me when this happened, he helped me disinfect the injury in the first place, that’s why I allow him to touch me."

That was the first time he said it loud to someone else besides his psychologist, it was a strange feeling but Atsumu’s palms kept caressing him and he felt…safe.

Kiyomi slowly opened his eyes to find the watery eyes of the blonde guy, he was biting his lower lip to prevent himself from bursting into tears, the urge to hug Kiyomi pumping in his veins. They stayed like that, eyes into eyes, until they slipped on the sofa in the same position.

“I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want to scare y-…”

“Can I kiss ya?”

Atsumu asked quietly. After a moment Kiyomi nodded, a slight smile coloring his face, he was softened by Atsumu’s care who was slowly approaching him. When their lips finally encountered, Kiyomi felt a grip on his face, he placed his palms on Atsumu hands and deepened the kiss, not surprised to feel the latter tears wet his face.

“So fuckin’ soft Miya.” he joked.

The blonde guy smiled, without his usual smirk. “Guess yer right.” and he kissed him again.


End file.
